Searching for Hope
by Kimberlae93
Summary: A fanfic based on the Walking Dead, from the eyes of a woman who's dealt with pain, death and destruction, Seeking revenge and sanctuary.
1. Chapter 1

'How many have you killed?'

My eyes drifted from Rick's, as I pulled the hem of my shirt up, uncovering the short pink scar lines across my waist and stomach. Rick didn't ask any questions, he only nodded slightly and took a step back, his hand always hovering over his gun, held in his holster.  
A man holding a crossbow stared at me, unsure whether to trust me or not. In this world, it was totally understandable. There are only a few people left in the world, and majority of them were untrustworthy, killing our own in order to survive. I've witnessed this first hand, and it seemed as if they had too.  
But I had no choice other than to ask for their aid, seek shelter in their home, the prison. I was desperate, and there was definitely safety in numbers. My group had been taken away from me, slaughtered by another group of people. Traveling on my own had only gotten me so far. Sleeping with one eye open wasn't doing my health any good. I need others.  
I stumbled across the prison a couple of days ago, and had noticed the many people living within their fenced home. I'd steered clear, unable to decide whether I could trust them, but I'd seen the families that survived there, the children that played in the grass.  
I wanted a safe life like that for me.

The crossbow-wielding man, Rick, a child and the older man stood in a small semi-circle, chatting quietly with each other. My eyes fell over the fence, walkers pushed against the fence, but it seemed sturdy enough to keep them out for a long time.  
Rick turned back to me, his hands on his hips and a look of authority on his face. I knew he was tough, the leader and the glue of this hold.

'You can stay. You need to pull your weight around here, help out when you can. Assist Daryl on runs, fight when we need you to fight.' I nodded.

'I'm prepared to do whatever I can to help out.'

'Daryl will show you were you're going to stay.'

Daryl twitched his fingers at me and I obeyed, swinging my mace over my shoulders, following him into the prison. There weren't many people in the prison, a lot less than I thought there were. Some looked sick, and the children were quiet, cuddled in a small circle reading over some books. The adults were just as quiet.

He led me through some cell blocks, stopping at one with a curtain dangling in front of the door. Daryl leant against the bars, looking at me cautiously.

'We recently had a flu pandemic, a lot of people died.'

'I'm sorry to hear that.'

'Yeah we lost a lot of good people. But we're doing okay now.' Daryl seemed almost sad when he mentioned losing people. I had to hold my tongue before asking who he lost.

'Thank you.' That was all I could manage. I'd lost my touch communicating with people, not being around them for so long. He pulled across the curtain for me, and revealed a small room inside. It wasn't spectacular, but it looked cosy. Someone had pinned some pictures to the wall, and made up the cell bed with a pretty blue blanket. I set my mace up in the corner and started to take of my shirt for bed, before turning back to the doorway. Daryl jumped guiltily and turned from my room.

'Night.'

He left without another word, and I set my clothes alongside the bed, sliding into the cool sheets. My eyes gazed up at the grey ceiling, and I felt myself relax. Something I haven't been able to do in such a long time. Even though I didn't feel one hundred percent safe, I certainly felt like I could sleep without fearing a walker would sneak up on me.  
And with that last thought, my eyes drooped and my subconscious mind fell deep into a dreamless sleep.


	2. Chapter 2

I rolled over under the quilt and snuggled into them deeply, curling up in the warmth. My eyes opened slowly and I was startled to see the young boy that stood with Rick yesterday, sitting against my wall, his attention drawn to a comic book in his lap. I looked around for my clothes, wanting to pull on my shirt and cover up quickly before he noticed.  
His hand reached out, my shirt dangling between is fingers.

'Here, I won't look.' His eyes never left the comic.  
I slid my shirt over my shoulders and sat up in my bed, resting against the cool concrete wall of my cell.

'My names Carl. I'm Ricks son.'  
'Anna.'  
'Can I ask about your scars?'  
I pulled my knees into my chest and wrapped my arms around them. 'What do you want to know?'  
'Why do you have them?'  
A moment of silence passed as I chewed my bottom lip, thinking of an answer.  
'Every one of those flesh eaters used to be a human, just like you and me. My scars are an infliction of pain, of their pain, the end of their life. It's just small reminder of what they endured. Of who they used to be.'  
'What about the long one along your chest?'  
My fingers traced the long scar from one shoulder, right across my chest to the other.  
'The biggest scar, for the biggest loss.'  
'Did they hurt?'  
'I've felt worse.'

Carl closed his comic book, and after another minute, stood and left from the cell. I was left alone with my own thoughts. Images of my sisters brown eyes crossed through my mind and I could feel my chest tighten. Another soft knock sounded on the cell bars and Daryl pushed aside the curtain.

'I'm going hunting. Rick thinks it's a good idea that you come along.'  
'Hunting?'  
'You know, rabbits, squirrels? I'm hoping to get lucky and find us a deer!'  
The hint of a smile played at his lips. It seemed out of place, like he didn't smile often. But it was an infectious smile, and it lit up his face. He picked up my pants from the floor and chucked them onto my lap. 'See you soon.'

He left and the curtain fell back into place. I pulled myself out of the comfortable bed and finished getting dressed, securing my hair into a high pony tail and washing my face in the lonely sink at the corner of the cell.

People smiled as I walked through the cell block, they were quiet, but friendly. I exited out into the courtyard of the prison and glanced around. They had a pretty nice set up, an ammo bin and guns prepped and ready for use, barrels of fresh water and cars. Daryl came up to me then and took a look around the courtyard himself.

'It's not much. Hell we're living in a prison. But it's safe, it's home.'

'I think it's a pretty nice set up.' I smiled encouragingly at him, hoisting my mace across my shoulders. 'I'm getting hungry, lets hunt.' He took me down to the fences, unhitching chains and opening up a slit in the fence big enough for us to squeeze through. He closed up the gap and loaded his crossbow, before pointing to the woodlands ahead. 'Shall we?'  
I made my way through the thick bush and stepped quietly over the leaves and twigs, Daryl close behind me. I heard the soft click of a broken twig and I turned quickly to my left, spotting a walker cruising through the trees.  
I held my mace in front of me, prepared to smack it dead, but Daryl's hand fell on my shoulder. I looked up at him, but he was looking at the walker, and the Walkers target.  
A sick boar lay on the littered ground, it's breathing laboured and shallow. The Walker fell on top of the boar, digging into its flesh.

'Ugh.' I mumbled under my breath and Daryl and I slowly backed away. We walked a little further away, deeper into the forest.

'Have you hunted before?' I shook my head and pulled my mace across my shoulders, stepping over a large boulder, jumping down over the other side.

'I have never been hunting.'

'I don't think you'll catch much with that.' He point to my mace and smiled. 'Why a mace?'

'My sister and I took advantage of the apocalypse. Looking for something to smile about, we broke into places, trashed them and stole things.' I smiled at the memories. 'Immature, I know. But it took her mind off of losing the rest of our family. She wanted to see the dinosaur bones, so we broke into a museum. I found the mace in one of the medieval sections, and when we came across a walker night-guard…' I shrugged. 'It worked.'

'Where is she now?'

I locked eyes with him for a brief second, before pulling down the top of my shirt and pointing to the long scar across my chest. Daryl stopped suddenly and pulled up his crossbow. There were walkers, heading towards the prison. But more importantly, heading straight for us. I swung my mace around and held it up defensively. Daryl made his way to my side, and we backed away from the group, watching them walk past without noticing us.

I felt a hand on my back, and I turned straight into the face of a walker.

'Fuck!' I pulled up my mace from the ground, smacking it into the back of its leg. It laid on the ground, moaning and growling, reaching out for my leg. I lifted my mace high, and swung it down hard, straight through its decaying skull.

'Nice.' I looked back to the group of Walkers. 'But now we have company.' They started limping towards us.

'Great.' I sighed and pulled my weapon from the Walkers head. Hair and blood dangled from the end.

Daryl shot his crossbow, and I swung my mace into the back of their heads, bringing them down one by one. Within a few minutes, we'd downed the group.

'That won't be all of them, we need to get back.'

'But we didn't catch anything…'

'We have enough food back at the prison to last us for one day.'  
I looked down at my shirt and sighed. It was covered in icky old blood from the Walkers. 'This was a nice shirt.'  
A hiccup of a laugh escaped from Daryl and I smiled back.

'You're disappointed about your shirt?'

'Hell yeah I am.' I could feel myself warming up to him. It was easy to joke around, and I didn't have to have the bad-ass-tough-act on around him. He already had that status; I could relax and be myself a little more. It was nice. We walked back to the prison, slipping in through the fence and parting ways at the courtyard. Daryl went off to talk to Rick and I retreated to my room to wash up. I fell onto my bed, staring up at the ceiling. I pulled up the long dog tag chain from my underneath my shirt and run my fingers along the tags, over each letter of the name engraved onto it. I separated the two dog tags and revealed a small razor blade between. I lifted my shirt slowly, dragging the small razor over my waist, with three, short lines. I placed a cloth over the top to catch the blood, pulling my shirt back over the scars.

Later in the evening I went out to the make shift farm I'd been told Rick had set up himself. The food was yet to flourish, but the plants were growing and it was a sight to see compared to all the death that surrounds us each day. Rick was working away at the crops, Carl by his side.

I cleared my throat and Rick looked up at me. He nodded at Carl and Carl headed off to do his own thing. 'I wanted to thank you Rick. For letting me come into your home. You didn't have to, hell for all you knew I could've been a danger to your people, and you could have left me to die out here on my own. But you didn't, and for that I want to thank you.'

'We've lost many people, people close to us. We've had to deal with people, living, breathing people who have tried to destroy what we have!' I flinched slightly, although I knew he wasn't frustrated with me. 'I have a son, and a daughter and we're doing our best to survive out here. Just like the rest of these good people here. As soon as someone jeopardises our survival, I will not hesitate to take out that threat.'

'I understand completely.'

I walked away and left Rick to tend to his garden, feeling unsure as to whether that was a positive response or not. I walked to the barrels of water and scooped my hand inside, sipping out of the formed cup. The cool liquid slid down my throat and I sighed contently for it has been such a long time since I've been able to drink fresh water.

'Enjoying that?' I scooped and drank another handful of water before looking up at Daryl.

'I haven't tasted such fresh water in such a long time.' I wiped my hands over my neck, the wind blowing and leaving a cool patch against my skin. 'It feels amazing.'

'Yeah it does. We filter it from the water just outside of the prison.'

'Clever.' I smiled and picked up my mace, cradling it back over my shoulders. We walked in silence towards the prison. 'If you've all lost so many people, people you loved, how do you find… I don't know, the strength to go on? I lost my sister, and I wanted to give up. It was my rage over her death that kept me going. And then when I lost my last group to an evil man. I was lucky to have found this place; otherwise I would've been on a suicidal mission.'

Daryl stood there looking at me for a moment before beckoning at me. 'Follow me.'

We walked into the prison and into an admin part of the building. It was set up for the children to read books, but there was someone who caught my eye. A pretty blonde girl, sitting with the other kids, but what caught my attention the most, was the baby that sat in her arms. She was a plump bub, couldn't have been older than twelve months. Daryl picked up the baby from the blonde girl and brought her over to me.

'This here, is little Kick-Ass.' I cooed over the little bubs and tickled her palm.

'You're just too cute!' The blonde girl walked up then and smiled.

'Her name is Judith. Kick-Ass was her temporary name Daryl called her until we… Over came everything. Carl liked Judith.'

'This is Rick's daughter?' I glanced up at the girl curiously.

'Yeah, I've been helping him out by taking care of her. She's great.'

'Where is her Mum?' The blonde girl looked up at Daryl and took Judith from his arms. I waved goodbye and we walked back through the prison blocks.

'Lorrie, Carl's and Judith's mother, Rick's wife, she died during the birth of Judith. She turned and Carl was the one who shot her once she turned.'

'Wait, she was bitten?'

Daryl's face dropped and he shook his head. 'You don't know.'

'What don't I know Daryl?'

He pulled me aside and into my little room, sitting me down on the bed. He sat against the wall in front of me. 'Everyone is infected. We all turn no matter what.'

I felt sick. We all turned? How was it possible? 'We become one of them no matter what...'

'Unless you have a bullet to your head, yeah.'

'Then what are we fighting for?!' Frustration burst through my chilled composure and I stood from the bed, pacing back and forth in the tiny cell. 'If we're just going to die, become one of them, why do we keep running? Why not accept the inevitable.' I pushed my palms into my sockets and took a deep breath. I felt Daryl's hands on my shoulders, hesitating on what to do next. He pulled me into his arms and tears leaked from my eyes. 'I'm scared, Daryl. I really am.'

'We keep fighting because of situations like Judith. We can still have a life in this world. Yeah it's not always going to be pleasant, but it's something.' I said nothing more and he held me as I stifled tiny sobs into his chest. After a moment I pulled away and smiled up at the older man.

'Thank you.'


End file.
